It's the Alcohol
by Pugnacious Peace
Summary: Nick says something that upsets Ellis - and something he knows he'll regret telling. -T just to be safe- NELLIS.


**Can't think of anything for the Minecraft fanfic at the moment – rather stuck. So instead, I give you Nellis! The song this was inspired by was 'Hanging On' by Ellie Goulding and then it just kinda… grew from there.**

* * *

**/ **

He remembered screaming. It wasn't anybody else's but his own – he remembered screaming _at_ something. Someone. _For_ someone, maybe. Hell, it didn't matter anymore. So much had changed and yet so little made an impact. Not until now.

The conversations the four of them shared were pointless as the current life itself. One would mention food, another would speak of her job, another would bring up cars, and he himself would sit against the wall and down what little alcohol they'd found, hoping to get out of that damned conversation.

And then all eyes were on him.

"What 'bout you, Nick?"

That goddamn southern drawl.

"What _about_ me?" Nick spat, taking another drink. Ellis' face seemed to fall for a moment and Nick could feel something like a freefall in the pit of his stomach, bile threatening to rise. He blamed it on the alcohol – that had to be it. Nothing else made sense. Nothing changed, nothing every changed. Places never changed, events never changed… _People_ never changed.

Rochelle scoffed, crossing her arms and leaning against coach silently. Coach said and did nothing more than look away, as if attempting to say something, but unable to conjure the words.

"…I just wanna know whatchur plans are for when we get back to civilization." Ellis spoke smoothly, his blue eyes downcast before looking back up at the gambler through thick lashes.

Nick let out a quiet 'fft' of air before standing, looking down at the mechanic. "Look, kid. We're not getting back to civilization, that's the problem. If you haven't noticed, everybody has been _zombified_. That, by the way, is not a good thing."

Ellis frowned, sighing and looking away from the man in the suit, setting his head on his palm. "Look man, I ain't tryin' to step on your toes none, I just- Well, I want to be optimistic, is that so damn difficult for you?" the man snapped, shocking the remaining three.

"…Yeah. Yeah, it is. Do you know what happened the last time I was 'optimistic', Aylus?" Nick mocked, screwing up his face in the process and slamming the glass down. Ellis was up in only a moment, glaring up at the man with an equally hateful glare.

"Why don'tchu tell me!" Ellis hissed, his fingers balling into a fist.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was anger, maybe it was annoyance, or maybe even a mix of the three. Again, it didn't exactly change things. It didn't matter. Hindsight 20/20, all that.

"Because the _last time_ I was optimistic, everything went to shit and I ended up _alone._"

Silence. Deafening, _noisy_ silence. The squabbles outside were punctuated with dull thuds. They weren't noticed. The rain thundered against the safe house door. It wasn't noticed. Water seeped through the ceiling and dripped on to the floor in the corner, making a dull and dark puddle of moisture – and _still_, nothing was noticed or if it was, it was quickly ignored. Nick's chest heaved as he attempted to wrap his head around what he'd just said – it wasn't like him to release detail about his life. He didn't care about other people, he hadn't for a long time and he didn't plan on it now.

And yet here he was, staring into the eyes of the mechanic he'd only just met. He swallowed. He clenched his teeth. His ears burned. He refused to look away and Ellis copied him, though the man's eyes began to soften.

He backed down.

"…m'sorry, Nick." Ellis mumbled, avoiding eye contact. Shortly after he returned to his normal smile, setting his gun against the wall and stretching. "Well," he started, though he didn't fool anybody with his deceptively cheery voice. "I suppose it's time for me to hit the hay, guys. G'night. Take me up for watch, will ya?"

He set himself down on the floor, using his arm as a pillow. Nick remained silent and Coach looked up, clearing his throat. "…We'll take first watch, Rochelle and I. You and Ellis get some sleep, we'll wake you up.

Nick said nothing, lying down in the opposite corner.

* * *

**/**

He hated watch. It was so incredibly boring, and he was always tired – but he knew it had to be done. It had to be taken care of. Whether he liked it or not, these people were his team mates, they were the only ones standing between him and death. In truth he was lucky.

Ellis scratched at his hair and Nick watched him carefully, thin lips pursed and his fingers drumming nervously on his thigh. It had been uncomfortable silence for several hours – and the sun wouldn't be up for another two.

"…Nick?" Ellis finally spoke, sounding the name out like a question.

Nick looked up slowly, frowning. Ellis cleared his throat, scooting closer to the other survivor, and Nick found himself remaining planted in his place.

The alcohol must have been stronger than he thought.

Somewhere behind him, Rochelle moaned and rolled over, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she suffered a terrible nightmare. Nick tried to ignore her – all of them had nightmares. They were living in one.

"What?" Nick responded, taking a heavy breath.

Ellis did the same, yawning shortly after, clutching his gun tighter. "…Just… Ah… m'sorry. For snappin' atcha earlier."

Nick leaned his head against the cold wall as it pounded. He didn't know what upset him.

Something.

Nothing.

…Everything.

"I would _kill_ for a smoke, right about now…" Nick muttered, clutching his opposite wrist. Ellis closed his eyes, sighing softly.

"Nick, I just… I don't know what to say, man."

"Then keep your trap shut."

"Nick! I'm tryin' t'be nice to you! What else can I _do_!"

"I have a headache…"

"I don' care!" he shouted, grabbing on to Nick's arm, clutching his suit jacket. Nick tried to break free but the grip was too tight, too determined.

He was simply forced to deal with it.

"Alright. You have my attention," Nick muttered begrudgingly, clenching his teeth to keep from saying more.

"I just want to be friends with ya, Nick." Ellis spoke softly, almost pleading. "I've been havin' these… nightmares. I don't wanna die, man, and I especially don't wanna die because somebody I _thought_ was on my side wanted to abandon me!'

"Kid-"

"No! Okay I got your attention and now I'm goin' t'be takin' advantage of it! I don't wanna die by those zombies, I'd rather slit my own throat."

Nick felt cold. That threat was looming in the air just above his head, threatening to rain its bloody promise down on him. For the first time he felt uncomfortable around the kid – not the unease of being in front of a stranger, but the exact opposite. He was staring into the eyes of not a complete stranger but an upset friend, a distressed ally. He stayed silent, for once; closing his eyes and listening to Ellis lose whatever eloquence he'd had before hand, turning into a bumbling and stuttering mess. He rambled on and on about 'survival' and 'nightmares' and… and friendship.

"Kid."

"-And I really don't want to get torn apart by those things, have you seen what they've done to _each other_! And-"

"El."

"—and then we have the problem of keeping ourselves from getting sick, and—"

"Ellis."

"And I-… Wh…what?"

"_Ellis_."

The name tasted… nice. It was silky and sweet on his tongue. Something about saying it sent tingles up his spine, but he ignored them – once again, it had to have been the alcohol.

"Calm down. If you panic you'll be an awful shot."

Damn it. It had been the wrong thing to say and he knew it – Ellis' face fell further into dejection and the man was quiet once more, staring at the safe house door in waiting.

"…Ellis?"

Nothing. Nick looked away, pretending to lose interest, though his mind raced.

* * *

**/**

How had it fallen this far?

The shouting and screaming of four went to three, and now had fallen into two. Between every shout of pain and fear there were at least six voices of the infected – and they were gaining.

Quickly.

Nick ran next to Ellis, watching the mechanic attempt to hide his tears of both fear and irritation (after all, Nick was certain he had gotten some dirt in his eyes when they narrowly avoided the tank's throw), as well as the sorrow of loss.

"Coach… and… and Rochelle—"

"Just forget about it Kid, we've gotta move!" Nick shouted, hissing silently as his weapon _clicked_. The worst sound to hear and it seemed to echo over the Infected's cries. He threw the heavy Rifle down – it was only weighing him down, anyway. His lungs burned and his throat was sore, cracking further with every breath he took. He yanked Ellis away from a Jockey that had pounced at him and shoved him in front, turning sharply with the Magnum.

Time seemed to move in slow motion, then. The helicopter's blades kicked up dust and detached leaves.

Nick, noticing his partner straggling behind as his wounds were becoming heavier, shot the Jockey behind the younger male, and ran to his rescue. His heart thudded and it only became louder as he wrapped the other's arm around his neck, his own around Ellis' waist. The screaming became louder as a burst of gunfire alerted him to assistance; a man in heavy black armor was firing at the zombies behind them, covering them as they moved through the camp. He breathed a sigh of relief, looking down at Ellis' glazed blue eyes.

"Nick," Ellis whispered, so quiet that the gambler had nearly missed it. He said nothing, only glancing down to show he was listening, as he focused on getting Ellis on his back, instructing him quickly to hang on as he climbed the ladder. Ellis did as told, his breathing ragged and slow. "…_Nick_."

Nick grunted in response, his legs burning as he turned the corner and went up another ladder. Almost there… so close…

The assistance from the helicopter reached out his hand, the weapon on the floor of the flier.

Nick moved forward.

"_Nick, I…_"

"Shush, kid," Nick snapped, and Ellis closed his eyes, moaning in pain.

"…_Am I goin' t'die?_"

"Nah. You'll be fine." Nick spoke hurriedly, his body nearly giving out as he climbed the third ladder. Only one more after this, and…

_Raaagh!_

The rock had nearly hit them. Nick shouted in terror and shock, nearly releasing his grip on the rungs of the ladder, though Ellis only tightened his own, breathing heavier. "Ellis calm down,"

"_I don't want to die._"

"You aren't going to die!"

"_I'm not ready._"

"Good, never be ready. Never go quietly." He continued climbing, listening as the rumbling came closer, the Tank charging clumsily up to them, climbing the ladders with impossible speed.

The last ladder. Nick moved quickly, practically _smelling_ that Tank right behind him.

"…_I'm tired._"

"Don't sleep yet, kid. We aren't safe yet."

"_Can I sleep when we're safe?_"

"Only if the medics tell you to,"

"…_Nick…_"

"What, kid?"

"…_say my name again._"

"…Why?"

"_Please._"

The delirious voice was what nearly broke him. He closed his eyes as he climbed aboard the helicopter, though he refused to relinquish his friend –

…Friend?

That was the name for it. Ellis, no matter how much of an asshole Nick was, always did what he could to keep the man out of danger, even if it meant risking his own life. Like the time he'd shoved Nick out of the way and took the Charger's punch, or when he'd pounced the _Hunter_ in response to it smacking Nick's back and causing bleeding.

Friends. That was what they were, even if they _were_ a little… odd.

But it didn't feel like friendship, but it didn't feel as strong as family. Then what was it? Why was he so afraid of letting the Kid go? Why was Nick so damned _terrified_ of watching those eyes close forever?

_Because if he goes… you're losing something important._

"Kid," Nick shouted, watching Ellis start to close his eyes – the moment the gambler yelled, however, they snapped back open and looked up at him, confusion in his eyes. "if you give up on me now, I swear to all that is fucking holy that I will go up there myself and kick your ass."

Ellis chuckled.

"I don't think the Man Upstairs would like that…"

"Fuck Him. I'll do it anyway."

He hesitated. Ellis was smiling that charming southern smile and Nick's throat tightened and a warm sensation blossomed in his chest. The scene beneath them had faded into peaceful forest, the terror long past them. The man in the helicopter with them busied himself with ripping open the remainder of Ellis' 'Bullshifters' shirt and doing his best to stop the bleeding. Nick hadn't realized it but his hands were covered in blood, and so was his back. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade, he could feel the stickiness of it and hear it sticking to the seat as he moved. He watched skilled fingers place pressure down, and green eyes flickered back to the face. The feeling in his chest once again formed and made itself known, and he felt that tingle up his spine all over again.

"Nick…" Ellis murmured, speech slurred and unfocused. His accent kept getting thicker and thicker with every moment but Nick didn't find himself as irritated as he would have been otherwise. "Please…"

Nick knew what he meant. He knew – and he found himself wanting to give it to him. He opened his mouth slowly.

"…_Ellis_."

There it was again. That warmth as Ellis smiled brighter. The medic looked up slowly, shaking his head,

"_That's all I can do until we get to the Evac center._"

Nick nodded slowly, looking back at the mechanic in his lap.

It wasn't the alcohol.

* * *

**/**

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

"I hate hospitals."

"Don't we all?" the nurse chuckled, and Nick frowned at her, though he said nothing more. He watched her hover over the brunette before leaving, closing the door silently behind her. Nick stared at the form in the bed with tired eyes.

It had been two weeks. He was still asleep – but he was _stable_, and he supposed that was what mattered. No sign of infection, very few complications…

The doctors described it as 'lucky', and Nick had laughed at the irony. A man who was pounced by Hunters, charged by Chargers, ridden by Jockeys, and smacked around by Tanks simply was _not_ lucky.

But he was alive.

That was lucky in itself.

Wasn't it?

He looked at the window. Survivors wandered outside the window and Nick shook his head, his brow twitching slightly for a moment. He wondered how people could simply continue their lives, pick up and start again like nothing had happened. Something had most _certainly_ happened – no, it _was happening_. He could still hear the screeches of infected and short bursts of gunfire outside. He knew. He knew it wasn't his imagination… The Evac point was just as unsafe as the rest of the world.

But here, medical treatment was available. That was enough for him, he supposed.

Ellis shifted slightly. His head moved against the pillow and his eyes beneath his lids had moved, as if he were dreaming. His calm face suggested a pleasant dream – which was a relief, at this point. Nick leaned back in the chair and watched him for a moment longer, thanking the doctor when he came in with a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

"How is he?"

"He'll be fine." The doctor smiled and checked vitals, took blood pressure, took blood.

Nick's expression did not change.

"Good."

When they were alone once more, Nick crumbled.

His life had once been on unstable stilts. Yeah, he knew it was unsafe, but he could still walk smoothly if he kept his coordination skills high and focused. The past few months, however, had been filled with the terror of a freefall. He had no parachute, no safe landing. He had no control. All he could do was close his eyes and hold his breath… and wait.

And somehow, _somehow_, he'd managed to hit the one safety net in place on the ground. And who else was holding it but-

"Ngh… Nick?"

Nick's eyes came to rest on Ellis' face, the drugged-up blue eyes wandering about the room.

"Where-"

"Evac, kid. We made it. We're alright."

Ellis took a few moments to soak it in and he smiled radiantly, beginning to chuckle. Nick found himself chuckling right along with him, their joy growing into delirious laughter and rising above their calm chatter. Nick held his stomach and felt his eyes watering and he closed them quickly, though he was not quick enough to stop the tears from falling. If Ellis noticed he said nothing, respecting his pride. Regardless, the gambler avoided eye contact until they were wiped away.

"…I toldja." Ellis murmured, and Nick let out a quiet huff of laughter, nodding softly.

"Yeah… yeah, you did. I'll admit it, you were… you were right."

* * *

**/**

Sunlight poured in from the open windows.

Stark white, sheer curtains billowed in the wind.

The air carried the pleasant, floral scent of roses. He hadn't been fond of the smell, at first, but he got used to it quickly. He shifted in his seat, frowning and turning the page of his book as the _thump thump thump_ came down the steps in quick succession.

"Nick!"

Nick looked up. Ellis stood with a grin, carrying a box. "Look what I found in the attic."

He flopped the box onto the table and the gambler slowly looked at it, raising a brow before a grin settled on his face. "Is that…"

"Yep. I figured you'd like those. Dice and a deck of cards."

Nick gave a short laugh, closing his book and setting it on the seat on the right of him, letting Ellis sit on his left. "Some old books… a handgun… is that a sword? Jesus, where did you find these again?"

"The attic. I toldja we made a good move, buying an undamaged old house instead of those shit new ones they're building,"

Nick snorted, crossing his arms. "Anything else?"

They dug into the box, avoiding various sharper objects, finding several more decks of cards, two bags of dice, and-

"Oh _hell _yes."

A cigar box. An old one, at that.

And it still had some in it.

Ellis snorted and shook his head, though he smiled and watched Nick set the box in his jacket, taking the bags of dice and the cards and setting them at his side. The man looked up at Ellis, and Ellis looked up at him, both of them giving a small smile. "…Can't believe we're still alive."

"I can," Ellis started, and Nick raised his hands.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. '_I told you so_'. You've told _that_ story before…" the two smirked and Ellis stood. "You still up for going to that party with Francis and Zoey?"

Nick's lip curled at the mention of those two but he huffed, nodding. "Yeah, I guess…"

Ellis grinned easily, sliding himself toward the older man with half-lidded eyes. "I promise there will be a surprise… we haven't been living together for over six years without me figuring a few things out about you, you know."

Nick's lecherous grin only appeared on his face and he stood easily, moving up the stairs with long legs.

_It **definitely** hadn't been the alcohol._


End file.
